Part of me still thinks this is a hoax, and any minute now he’ll start laughing as he pulls off a mask and reveals himself.
I don’t know how I know his name. It just appeared.
I clutch the cane closer. My phone dings, startling me again, and I look at the screen, my hand clenching around the case in a death grip. Dad sent me a text.
Zuriel’s wings expand, and it’s clear he doesn’t want me to leave. He can keep me here if he wants; it would be so easy. He’s huge. He wouldn’t even have to lift a hand—his wings alone could trap me.
We stare at each other. Like we did in the dream.
He drops his dark eyes first. They trail curiously down my body. My skin prickles, and my brow beads with sweat, as I glance at his thickly arched horns, wide pointed ears, and long dark blue hair that ends at his muscled pecs. With each breath, his corded abs shift.
I hear a click, and my gaze drops to his feet. They’re the same as the museum’s statue, wide and clawed. It’s those claws making the clicking sound, tapping the wood floor as his slender tail stiffens nearby.
When I glance back up, he’s staring at me.
Once again, I fixate on his smooth groin. Where the fuck did his cock go?
Oyster clambers up the steps, snagging our attention. He sees Zuriel andpurrs. Purrs! The cat betrays me, wringing around Zuriel’s legs. The gargoyle doesn’t respond, returning the intensity of his gaze to me.
I shift against the wall. “So you can protect me…” God, why do I sound so hopeful? Maybe because there might be a way to make it out of this room alive. The idea of protection is much better than murder.
“I can, to a degree.” His voice is deep and gruff and not unpleasant. Firm, like a foundation. I hadn’t listened to it before, too terrified to take it in.
I lick my lips. “What does that mean?”
“I can only move at night.”
My gaze shifts past him and to the skylight. It’ll be hours until morning.
Morning.I just need to make it to morning. I can play along until then. Maybe in the daylight, this will make sense.
“Protect me while I drive,” I say, appeasing him. We might be able to strike a compromise, anything to escape this corner. “Can you do that from a distance? If I don’t go to my parents, they’ll ask questions, they’ll be suspicious.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he does something else, shocking me.
He steps away, leaving me cold, and strides out onto the deck. I follow after, stopping shy of the threshold. His wings expand, and he takes off into the night sky. He heads to the oak out front and settles on a branch, facing me. The bats follow after, settling on the branches on either side. My heart sinks into my stomach. The moment stretches out before I’m able to look away, to react. Reaching for the doors, our eyes remained locked as I slowly close them and set the bolt.
He can fly.
I take a few minutes to collect my nerves checking out the window several more times. His large, hunched form remains where he landed. I take my time heading out front, closing all the window drapes and rechecking every lock.
He’s there when I step outside, waiting for me, crouched within the trees and hidden within the shadows. His eyes glint in the darkness.
There are monsters in this world.
I take a couple of steps toward my car and look back to confirm he’s not going to stop me. He hasn’t moved.
He’s going to let me leave.
He’s menacing in his shadowed perch, his clawed feet hanging over the branch. Menacing even when he’s immobile like the statue I’ve spent countless hours looking at—one I’ve seen all my life. I know every bit of him.
Even his missing cock.
My eyes widen and I dash to my car, cheeks flushing.
I watch through the rearview mirror as he flies upward and into the sky. Clouds drift across the moon. The radio plays as I try to keep my gaze on the road ahead.
Regardless, my eyes flicker up to the clouds. My muscles spasm, remembering how close we were minutes ago, and no matter how I try to make the sensations go away, the ghost of his touch remains.
